


Action, Reaction

by bluebells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves, F/F, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Possessive Behaviour, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam is the most recently turned wolf of Michael's pack, and Michael has him learning quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Action, Reaction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astrild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrild/gifts).



> A very belated birthday gift.

"What's wrong with her?"

Adam's afraid to ask, but his palms are sweating and his stomach isn't supposed to wrench like that, but his whole body clenches every time Jo _moves_ from her crouch in the far corner of the bar. 

She's shuddering and sick, snarling past the whimper Adam can hear building in her chest. The wood panels splinter between her claws, she bows her head to the ground, hair matted to her pale skin. Her soft, mewling noise propels Adam across the room because he has to help her, she's in pain - 

"No." Michael's arm bars his path.

Adam looks up into their alpha's face, but Michael's watching Jo carefully. She pants and writhes and pushes herself against the stone where the walls meet, blood and splinters on her fingertips. Her gold eyes are dulled. Adam begins pushing past Michael, but a hand closes around his arm, pulling him back.

Michael swallows, shakes his head. "Nobody must touch her except her mate."

"But she's-" Adam blinks from Michael to Jo, frowning. "Are -- are you saying this is--"

"It's a bad time of month for her," Michael says delicately.

Adam's still so new to all of this, his jaw goes slack, and when he looks back at Jo, he finally understands the scent that's been driving him mad all week: like the sweetness of cinnamon, the _bite_ of ginger coating his tongue, leaving his mouth dry, his vision tunnelled. He sways on his feet, but he's grateful for Michael's grip that keeps him anchored, because that need to sink by Jo's side flares in him again when she makes a soft noise, heel of her hand grinding down her thigh. 

Adam knows the lore, he's heard the rumours, but he's never _seen_ -

He wants to go to her, but he'd need to hold her. He'd have to fold her around him until she forgot her hurt, until Adam was pushing a different noise from her throat, and she could hold him as tightly as she wanted. Adam wouldn't complain.

"Adam," Michael growls, scenting Adam's reaction.

Adam's tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. His voice cracks. "Why's it affecting me, too?"

A sharp pain shoots up his arm. He cries out, yanking away from Michael's claws.

The door flies open and Pamela stands on the threshold, her sharp profile harshly backlit from the porch. Claws extended, her head snaps to Adam and Michael. Her eyes gleam like the white hot edge of a knife. Her beautiful face contorts in fury, and her roar makes Adam flinch. His ears ring; the hot, shivering hunger shrivels in his stomach.

Michael pushes between Adam and Pamela, and answers her: fangs bared, shoulders crowded. Adam feels the tremble down to his bones, almost falling to his knees.

It's enough for Pamela to push her shoulders back with a snarl. Instinct compels her to challenge anything that stands between her and her mate, especially with Jo in this state. It’s the same instinct that makes Pamela submit to her alpha. She rounds them, keeping a wide berth, boots echoing heavily as the men back towards the door.

"What is he doing here?" Pamela narrows her bright glare at Adam, body slotting as a shield between Jo and the others.

"He's learning," Michael says, the words harsh through his fangs. "We'll be outside."

Jo's already crawling forward, pushing and kneading her forehead into the crook of Pamela's knee. Pamela’s fingers sift through Jo’s blonde hair. Michael shoves at Adam’s shoulder, and Pamela’s distrusting gaze follows his backwards stumble until Michael's shut and bolted the door behind them.

Oh, wow. Wow. That was so heady.

Adam's hands are shaking when he looks up into Michael's face. Adam studies the grim, angry tension in his expression. He bites his tongue down on the whine that springs in his throat, seeing Michael unhappy. "I thought it was only happening to her. Why--"

"It's chemical." Michael's gaze slides to him from the worn grain of the wood. God, his eyes are still glowing. "Your wolf acts on instinct: you smelled her heat, it knew what it wanted to do. You either want to own or be owned -- your wolf doesn't know its place yet. Learn control."

Confusion makes Adam’s heart beat faster. "But... you said - I mean, I thought you said I was --"

A wrangled cry rings out behind the bolted door. Adam's stomach flips, but he tears his gaze back to Michael when the taller man leans down into his space, the hint of a smile tugging his mouth. "You _are_ mine. Your wolf will learn that, too."

Adam licks his lips, glancing at Michael’s mouth. He expects Michael to kiss him - he hopes - he has to shut his eyes for a moment. Michael is so close. Lips brush beneath his eye, then at the bridge of his nose.

Michael doesn’t kiss him.

“Come with me,” Michael whispers.

Adam shudders as the sound rumbles warm over his skin. His head feels like it’s made of clouds - fevered and bright - and he could drift on the wind at any moment. He wants to reach out and ground himself, he needs Michael to hold onto him, drag him down, sliding rough and gorgeous and so, so warm against him. He needs - and he doesn’t realise he’s swaying on his feet until hands wrap around his arms, drawing him closer.

Michael’s thighs knock his, hands push up his back, and a low, satisfied _purr_ starts in Adam’s chest when Michael nuzzles his cheek in silent question. _Yes?_

Maybe his wolf is already learning. He's too weak, too drunk on Michael's closeness to feel embarassed.

Adam can only nod, let himself be led.


End file.
